SpiderMan: Web of Lies
by Legend Atticus
Summary: Things heat up in NYC when Spidey has some big problems to deal with. What's your friendly, neighborhood wallcrawler to do? Read and find out!
1. Patrol

Spider-Man: Web of Lies  
  
"Well, see you later, MJ." Peter Parker dashed out of the apartment, carrying only a backpack and a small brown paper bag. He looked almost like a young boy running to school. And in a way, he was.  
  
Only his schooling was going to take place on the rooftops of New York City, not to mention in alleys, bars, and abandoned buildings.  
  
He jogged down the street, eager to sign-in to work. He was half-way there before he realized it was his day off. "Well, time to change early, I guess."  
  
He darted into an alley. Seconds later, Spider-Man emerged form that same alley via the wall. He climbed up onto the rooftop and almost carelessly flipped a line of webbing across the street. He launched himself across the street and landed on the target building. He continued in this fashion until he spotted some action down on the streets below.  
  
"Hmm, looks like a party. Well, you know me…"  
  
He performed a neat flip as he descended to street level, landing right in between a tough-looking street thug and an elderly lady. The thug looked like he had just been slapped across the face, and the women both thankful and terrified at the same time. Spider-Man was used to both looks. He got that a lot.  
  
"I love to crash parties!"  
  
The thug threw down the knife he was holding and turned to run. Spider-Man flicked his wrist and shot a streaming line of webbing towards his retreating back. Thwip! He hooked his target, and let him continue to run for another second or so. Then he yanked back, hard, using all his spider-strength.  
  
The thug was carried through the air by the sudden motion. He landed hard on his back and groaned in terror as more webbing shot out to encase his hands and legs, trapping him to the sidewalk.  
  
"Well, y'know," Spider-Man said conversationally as the woman he had just saved fled the scene. "You should be more careful about who you invite. Now you'll just have to wait here until the cops come sort you out."  
  
He fired a line back up to another building and continued on his patrol. It wasn't long before he came upon a suspicious-looking car parked in an alley. I was a black limousine, and three thugs stood around it, carrying guns.  
  
"Another party. This looks a little more exclusive, though…maybe I should just watch for a bit."  
  
Presently another car drove up, slowly. It was a car anyone would have overlooked, looking like just another family car, not particularly dirty, not too clean, no bumper stickers, not even an identifying scratch or dent. Spider-Man could clearly see two men in the car, one of whom was holding a briefcase.  
  
The car aligned itself with the limousine perfectly, so that the limo's passenger side window was in line with the driver's window of the new-coming car. A hand held a briefcase out of the limo's window. The driver of the other car held out the briefcase his passenger handed him. They went to exchange the goods…  
  
Twip! Thawp! Two web lines caught on either briefcase, and with a terrific yank, Spider-Man owned both.   
  
"It's the Spider!" "Shoot 'im, boys!" "Don't let him get away!"  
  
Spidey deposited the briefcases on top of the roof as he jumped down into the fight below.  
  
"Party time! Who wants to dance?"  
  
He was already locked in an intricate dance that only he could perform, twisting and jumping, limbs flailing, knocking guns to the ground and knocking the street toughs holding them out of the fight.  
  
"Want a little punch?" He mocked one of the thugs as he suited his action to his words. The last hood dropped, moaning, to the ground.  
  
But there was still one person left in either car. With an ear-splitting screech, the limousine took off, followed closely by the other car. But Spider-Man was ready for that all-too-predictable move. He shot two more lines of web, and hooked them onto either car's rear.  
  
He pulled the two lines into each other and watched as the speeding cars smashed together. The cars were hurled into the walls and Spider-Man went to web up the survivors. 


	2. Spinning Web

"Well well well. What do we have here?" Spider-man mocked the two who tried to escape in their respective cars. He slowly opened the suitcases that were being exchanged. The first held no surprises. Money. Loads of it. Hundreds of non-sequential hundred dollar bills, neatly folded. But Spidey was expecting as much. After all, when people exchange suitcases through car windows in a back alley, it's usually not because they picked up the wrong one at the office. Usually someone is buying and someone is selling…  
  
But what they're selling is usually the interesting part. When he opened the other suitcase, he found bags of white powder and crushed green leaves. Marijuana and cocaine. But he also saw…  
  
A small CD, obviously burned, not labeled. Next to it, carefully packaged in foam and newspapers, a small gizmo that looked like it came straight out of a science fiction movie laid nestled comfortably. Spider-man was immediately interested. At first glance, it looked to be something of a small converter, but it had a few too many wires for that to be entirely true.  
  
He shrugged. "Well, looks like I've got to leave early, guys. Tech trouble, y'know."  
  
He grabbed the CD and the odd-looking gadget and left the rest for the police. Satisfied that his patrol was reasonably over, he began to swing back towards his own home where he could analyze everything he had confiscated.  
  
He got home and was greeted by an eerie feeling. The place was empty. "MJ? MJ!"  
  
His Spider-sense began tingling as he approached the bedroom, and he knew he wasn't going to like what he found there. He readied his web-shooters and took a deep breath, bracing himself to open the door and find out what was in there.  
  
He finally got a hold on himself and kicked open the door, hands extended, ready to blast webbing at the slightest movement or sound.   
  
But there was nothing there. His head still tingled and buzzed, though. It intensified as he looked at the bed. Something small and white caught his eye. A note.  
  
He sighed. If MJ had left him a note, it was definitely bad news. No one ever put good news in a note. Especially not her. The note was typed. He scanned it quickly and noticed no signature. The Spider-sense died away as he began to read the note, and it was replaced by an empty feeling of panic.  
  
"Spider-Man:  
  
Knew you would get this note. How have you been since our last meeting? Not well, I hope.   
  
Well, I'll cut straight to the deal. No deal, actually. I have your precious little wife, and if you want to see her again, alive or otherwise, you'll have to come see me, alone and unmasked. I'd prefer for the world to see who you are before I kill you.  
  
Be at the cemetery at midnight, tonight. If you're not, a new headstone just might appear there before morning. Imagine having to take the pictures of your own wife's corpse for the newspaper.   
  
Well, it was fun writing this. Because you're reading this, you probably have a small electronic trinket you got off some of my associates. I hope you do, since it's a bomb that should soften you up a bit before I have the pleasant task of tearing you apart.  
  
Don't take care, insect. I'll see you at midnight."  
  
Spiderman dropped the note to the floor in disbelief. It was just as the paper hit the floor that an explosion tore through Spider-Man's home. 


End file.
